Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not here to sell you fire insurance, pitchforks, or eternal harp lessons. But I am here to talk about hell—or at least my particular flavor of it. And spoiler alert: my version doesn’t involve eternal conscious torment or an underground barbecue. But it does involve correction, accountability, and maybe even a metaphorical whoopin’. (Because let’s be real: some folks could use one.)
First off, yes, I’m a universalist. But before you get visions of me handing out “All Aboard the Heaven Train!” tickets, hold up. My belief in universal reconciliation is not the soft, marshmallowy kind. It’s more like tough love with a healthy dose of cosmic justice.
Hell: It’s Not Just a Hot Mess
To me, hell isn’t God’s ultimate trash heap where the “bad” people go to rot for eternity. It’s more like a divine intervention program. Think of it as God pulling out the heavenly couch and saying, “Sit down. We need to talk.” Hell is where the victimizers—your Hitlers, your abusers, even your middle managers who reply-all unnecessarily—get confronted with their bullshit.
This isn’t about revenge. It’s about correction. It’s about acknowledging the harm they’ve done and—here’s the kicker—actually doing the hard, uncomfortable work of transformation. Because, as much as I believe in grace, I also believe that grace doesn’t let people waltz into heaven unrepentant, especially if their dance partner is someone they’ve traumatized.
On Reconciliation: Not Always a Group Hug
Jesus famously said, “In my Father’s house are many rooms” (John 14:2). And you know what? Some of those rooms might just be for victims to finally get some peace without having to face their abusers. Heaven isn’t a compulsory family reunion. Sometimes, justice looks like distance.
Victims don’t need to reconcile with their victimizer to experience healing. Reconciliation is beautiful when it happens, but forcing it? That’s just sanctified gaslighting. There’s room in heaven for closure without confrontation, for peace without apology.
And yet, here’s the universalist twist: I do believe that suffering can come to an end for everyone—yes, even the worst of the worst. God’s love is stubborn like that. But that end might not involve some kumbaya moment where everyone holds hands. For some, the road to healing might be entirely separate. Justice doesn’t demand proximity; it demands restoration.
A Hell That Heals
So, yes, I believe in hell. But it’s not endless. It’s not vindictive. It’s a hospital for the soul, where the cure might be uncomfortable, painful even, but ultimately aimed at wholeness. And if that means some people get a whoopin’ along the way? So be it.
Because a heaven without justice isn’t heaven at all. And a universalism without accountability is just wishful thinking. If God’s love really is as big as I believe it to be, then it has room for correction, room for healing, and room for everyone—even if some of those rooms come with locked doors and a “Do Not Disturb” sign.
Also, if you’ve been digging my work on here, and want to see me be able to continue writing as close to full-time as humanly possible, please take a look at my Patreon page at www.patreon.com/mjdistefano. Even $1 a month helps bigly!!!
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